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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26802946">Not in Kansas anymore</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma'>CastielsCarma</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Asylum, Canon Compliant, Doctor Castiel (Supernatural), Doctor Michael (Supernatural), Forced Ejaculation, Forced Orgasm, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Medical Patient Dean Winchester, Prostate Massage, no happy ending, they collide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 09:41:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26802946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up and realizes he's not in bed anymore. He's not in Kansas anymore either.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Not in Kansas anymore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camerahead12/gifts">Camerahead12</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my prompt for day 3 of Kinktober: Fisting, <b>medical play</b> or orgasm denial.<br/>This ficlet kind of grew a mind of its own and turned into non-con/rape which wasn't my intention when I started. But I follow my muse. I hope you enjoy this dark piece. There is no happy ending.<br/>If you find something that I forgot to tag, please comment and I'll fix it.</p><p>Enjoy! Kudos and comments are as always appreciated. =)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Dean comes to slowly, a smile still on his lips. He had the craziest dream about Cas hoarding yellow bath ducks and Dean had found a huge one on sale that he shoved into their bathroom as a surprise.</p><p> </p><p>He turns to his side, his eyes still half-closed. “Cas, you won't believe that dream I had. You were nerding out on those yellow rubber ducks and – “</p><p> </p><p>His eyes flash open when he feels resistance on his wrists as he moves. He looks around at what is most definitely <em>not </em>his and Cas's bedroom. He's in a plain room with brick walls. A metal cabinet stands in the corner and to his left are wall hooks with various instruments on display. The single door – seemingly made of a heavy material like steel or iron – beckons to him. If he lifts his head, he stares right at it.</p><p> </p><p>Dean blinks –but it feels slow and sluggish and again he tugs on the bindings. The last haze of sleepiness leaves him as he quickly realizes his situation; his wrists are strapped down to a bed. He moves his legs and feels padded restraints on his ankles.</p><p> </p><p>What the hell is going on?</p><p> </p><p>“Cas!”</p><p> </p><p>A man appears from a corner in the room that Dean didn't see was sectioned off with some curtain. “Good, you're awake. I was beginning to fear your participation in the last hydrotherapy would keep you under for far longer than we recommend.”</p><p> </p><p>Anger flared through Dean at that familiar voice, that familiar face. His dark skin makes a pretty contrast to the white doctor's robe he has on, but it is a cold beauty that is as lethal as the sleekest cobra. His hair is slightly different but Dean would recognize that face... that <em>arrogance </em>everywhere.</p><p> </p><p>“Michael! I don't know what the hell is going on, but if you don't let me go right now, I swear I'll rain fire and brimstone down on your ass.”</p><p> </p><p>Michael just raises a perfect eyebrow and sighs. Dean frowns at the disappointment he reads there.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell do you have to be disappointed about? Cas! Sammy! Jack! I'm in here.” Dean pulls at the bindings and the chains rattle but doesn't move an inch.</p><p> </p><p>Michael grabs a stool and sits down as he proceeds to scribble down some notes. He doesn't look at Dean but speaks out loud as if he wants Dean to know the content of his journals.</p><p> </p><p>“Patient KAZ 2Y5, also known as Dean Winchester is still – “</p><p> </p><p>“I'm not known as Dean Winchester. I <em>am </em>Dean Winchester, you fucker. I don't know how you're alive, Jack killed you but I swear, when I get out of here, I'll personally make you regret coming back a second time.'</p><p> </p><p>Michael waits until Dean finishes before proceeding again. “Patient KAZ 2Y5 is still experiencing the same delusions as when he was admitted. There's no indication of any of the treatments remedying his disturbed and delusional mind.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean scoffs. “That's rich coming from you. I haven't seen a more pompous archangel and Cas forced me to watch Lucifer on Netflix.” He looks around the room again and an edge of steel creeps into his voice. “I don't know how the fuck this happened or what magic this is but we <em>killed </em>you. We defeated <em>God.</em> And I'll gladly kill you again you son of a bitch. Get the hell out of my mind.”</p><p> </p><p>Michael stands up and finally put down his pen. “Dean, we're here to help you. Help you heal.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like hell you are. If you're here to help me, here's how you can help. You unchain me right now so I can wrap this around your neck and choke the life out of you. That's how you can help me.” Dean turns to the side and spits.</p><p> </p><p>“Browood Asylum has been the shining beacon in providing help and treatment for the clinically insane since its founding days a decade ago. We were known for our service and professional care towards patients in 1923 and we still are. Rest assured that you'll get the best of what modern medicine can provide.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean feels a chill travel down his spine at Michael's words. “1923? That's not...” That's not possible. He blinks and tries to orientate himself. His last coherent memory is watching a comedy the night before he and Cas decided to hit the bed. He dreamt about the ducks and was just waking up. He was just waking up.</p><p> </p><p>“My name is Dean Winchester but the year is 2023. You're not a fucking doctor. You're a long-dead pain in the ass memory, I was your perfect vessel and we Kentucky-fried your ass. You're as real as fat-free bacon or Paris Hilton, take your damn pick. I don't know what kind of weird-ass dream this is, but if it's mine, I'll fry your ass in here too.”</p><p> </p><p>Michael frowns just slightly before he takes up his goddamn pen again. “This Paris Hilton. Is he also a part of your insanity? Did he also have a vessel as you called it?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean stares at Michael as if he's suddenly decided to put on a tutu dress and do a little twirl. His heart hammers in his chest and he pulls at the chains again. Fuck. This is not Michael. Not his Michael. No, <em>his </em>Michael would not feign innocence nor ignorance.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell is happening? Sammy? Cas!”</p><p> </p><p>Michael walks up to the bed and looks down at Dean.</p><p> </p><p>Dean prays that he leans in just a bit closer so he can knock him out. He has a thick skull, he'll use that to his advantage.</p><p> </p><p>“You are one of our most severe cases. I'm reluctant to let you succumb to your hysteria and delusions but I'm afraid more hydrotherapy or insulin therapy is futile. We already put you in a coma twice and as for as I can assess you're even worse now.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean smiles grimly. “Call me hysteric one more time and I swear – ”</p><p> </p><p>“You're a smart man.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean clamps his mouth shut. If this fake-Michael or whoever he is is planning on doing some kind of treatment on him, that means he'll remove the restraints. And when he does, Dean will descend on him like a ton of bricks and fucking escape.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Cas, can you hear me? I don't know what is happening. I'm strapped down to a bed, my feet are cold and my eyes feel red. Like I haven't slept in ages. Is this a dream? Cas?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Are you not, Mr. Winchester?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Smart?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean shrugs and pulls at the bindings. “You tell me, doc. Can a guy be smart and delusional at the same time? Pull out the DSM-5 and check for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Michael still has his creepy eyes on him and is unfazed by his remarks. “That doesn't mean anything. It's only a way for your mind to pull you under. You're remarkably coherent and consistent in your delusions but each case is unique. It seems your delusional hold hasn't diminished your intelligence.”</p><p> </p><p>Michael bends down and strokes his cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Dean stays still. Michael's insistence on not understanding the reference disturbs him more right now than his creepy hand touching him even though he swore that Michael would never touch him again. Not this version at least.</p><p> </p><p>Michael pulls out something from his pocket. “What's this?”</p><p> </p><p>Dean's fear lodges in his throat and causes him to lose his voice for a few seconds. Michael holds his cell phone awkwardly, pinching it between his thumb and index finger. “It's a... phone. It's a cellphone.”</p><p> </p><p>Michael nods as if he's come to some kind of decision. “Even creating this contraption to keep yourself pacified in your own disturbed mind. It borders on hysteria. We have not treated you for that condition seeing as we had more pressing concerns with your health. The talk about angels and demons and God. You fighting them, the gentleman in your own story.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean's shoulders ache but his anger overshadows that pain. “You have the phone right there! What fucking more proof do you need? Everything I've told you” – and it seems Dean has told him more than he remembers doing – “is true. I need to get out of here and save Sam and Cas because if they haven't saved me yet they're in trouble.” Dean refuses to entertain the thought that the reason they haven't come to his rescue is that he ended up here alone.</p><p> </p><p>He's not aware of any magic that does this. It doesn't have the feel of African dream root, the angels with the powers to trap him like this are all gone, God is out of the picture. He doesn't remember walking into a closet that leads freaking E.R-Narnia either but yet he's there.</p><p> </p><p>“Hysteria is usually associated with the female condition but it seems you are the exception. We'll let you undergo the same treatment as the women of this asylum.” Michael has the audacity to pat him on the shoulder. “I hope it helps you as it's given them relief from their troubled minds. Dr. Castiel will be in charge of the procedure. I assure you, you're in very capable hands.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean exhales in shock.</p><p> </p><p>Cas? If Cas somehow has managed to hear Dean's prayer, maybe there is hope still.</p><p> </p><p>Michael's lips thin in displeasure. “I'm very much aware of your thoughts right now. But Dean, you have to understand that your mind took the name of Dr. Smith and simply absorbed it. Substituting reality with insanity. This will help you. If you let it.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean is silent as Michael closes the door behind him.</p><p> </p><p>With the other-kind-of-crazy Michael finally gone, Dean tries again to yank himself free. He rolls to one side of the bed, but the only thing that happens is that he gets a weird cramp in the side of his stomach until he's on his back again.</p><p> </p><p>When Castiel enters Dean's heart drops. It's really Cas but when he looks at Dean, there is no hint of familiarity on his face. Not a smile to greet him as his Cas does, no love that shines in his eyes and makes him radiant as he looks at Dean.</p><p> </p><p>This Castiel is a stranger.</p><p> </p><p>Two huge men enter behind Cas and Dean is relieved that they're not some other-world copies of people he knows. Yet he wonders why they're there.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, Mr. Winchester, if you just cooperate this will be over soon.” Michael's voice sounds smug.</p><p> </p><p>Dean tries to sit up. He doesn't like the sound of this.</p><p> </p><p>Bulky unclasps his ankles.</p><p> </p><p>Dean is still.</p><p> </p><p>When Bulky is done with Dean's legs, he moves up and reaches for his arm. He fiddles with binding on his wrist until Dean is free of the first clasp.</p><p> </p><p>Dean is still although every instinct in his body screams to fight, to run.</p><p> </p><p>This is the moment Dean has been waiting for. When he feels the second clasp open, he lunges from the bed. Rather he tries too but Bulky is strong as fuck and Dean doesn't move an inch.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me go!”</p><p> </p><p>Too late, Dean sees the other guy, Brawny. He reaches around his waist, twists and pulls him down on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>Dean lands with a huff on the bed again – on his stomach this time – and doesn't even have the mental clarity to get up when Bulky is there and pushes his arm down over his back as Brawny removes his arm that was underneath.</p><p> </p><p>Dean tries to move but it's like moving with a boulder on his back.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, he feels the deceivingly soft binding encircle his ankles no matter how hard he kicks. When Bulky goes for his arms, Dean pulls them away, but he can only move them so far with being pinned down to the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“No, you get off me you motherfuckers!”</p><p> </p><p>They ignore him, cold and detached.</p><p> </p><p>Dean is confused, tired, and pissed and none of it helps against these two titans of men. His wrists are shackled again, only this time he's on his stomach. Just when he thinks it can't get worse, Bulky grabs a hold of a metal bar of some kind that is attached to the side of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>He pulls it up as Brawny touches Dean again. His thick hands grab him by the waist and pull up.</p><p> </p><p>A click echoes in the room and then Dean's dumped unceremoniously on the bed again.</p><p> </p><p>Only this time, he can't get down properly. Correction. His chest and arms can but the cursed metal bar is in the way and so high that Dean's ass sticks up.</p><p> </p><p>He feels a pull and realizes that Brawny tightens the chains in the front. His arms are locked into place and Dean feels the same unyielding pull on his ankles as they're tied down to the bed.</p><p> </p><p><em>No, no</em>. Dean refuses the thought to enter his mind.</p><p> </p><p>His panic is interrupted by Cas' voice. “Thank you. Please, leave us alone now.”</p><p> </p><p>As the door closes, Dean hopes that he'll awaken from this nightmare, that Cas will save him, that this isn't real.</p><p> </p><p>“Cas, please help me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will.”</p><p> </p><p>Cas' voice is so soft and so <em>Cas </em>that Dean allows himself to feel relief. That quickly shatters when he hears the sound of clothes tearing. His clothes.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, Dean is naked and immobilized.</p><p> </p><p>He wants to look at Cas, plead with him but Cas is at Dean's feet.</p><p> </p><p>Dean hears the snap of gloves and his whole body goes rigid.</p><p> </p><p>“Cas, no, no, what are you doing?” But of course, Cas doesn't answer and Dean <em>knows </em>what Cas is doing.</p><p> </p><p>Cas' hand on his ass is unwelcome. Dean reminds himself that this isn't his Cas but little does that help when he looks like his Cas and sounds like his Cas.</p><p> </p><p>“Relax.” Cas' voice is calm.</p><p> </p><p>His finger doesn't coax or tease as his Cas does – <em>this isn't my Cas and this isn't anything like what we do</em> – all Dean feels is the slight warning that something is there, pushing against his hole. Then without preamble, Cas pushes in a finger.</p><p> </p><p>Dean grunts at the intrusion and the burn but there is something there, some kind of liquid that mitigates some of the pain. He wants to move away, push the finger out but the damn shackles are doing a too good job of keeping him in place.</p><p> </p><p>He can feel his ass clench around the finger. Cas starts pushing in and out and Dean moans. He can't help it.</p><p> </p><p>“Cas, please, stop.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is for the betterment of your psyche. This will calm your hysterics.” Cas moves his finger faster, and Dean's breath becomes heavier.</p><p> </p><p>Blood rushes to his cock and Dean's arousal burns together with shame in his gut. He tries to pull his arms back, muscles straining but the pain in his ass intensifies as Dean steels his body. He pants and tries to relax but it's difficult and then he can feel Cas probe with another finger.</p><p> </p><p>“Cas, stop it, damn you! I'm not – “ His words die on a moan. His cock is rock hard and twitching. He can feel spurts dripping down on the bed. His fingers clench on the sheets as Cas grabs his cock and strokes. Dean closes his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Come. Don't fight it. We have many treatments to go. This will purify you of your delusions. Don't you want to get better, Dean?”</p><p> </p><p>Tears burn behind his eyes. He opens them and the world is a blur. Dean wishes bitterly that the same grace would be extended to his body.</p><p> </p><p>Cas thrusts his fingers faster in Dean's hole.</p><p> </p><p>Dean feels something <em>turn </em>and realizes that Cas has been holding back. He grits his teeth but he can't stop the moans and pants that escape him.</p><p> </p><p>He's lost.</p><p> </p><p>Cas fucks him hard and fast. Dean's cock weeps and Dean weeps too, tears that fall down on the cursed sheets. They're twisted partners to his leaking cock and soon even that is gone from Dean's mind.</p><p> </p><p>The only thing that keeps him from moving is the restraints.</p><p> </p><p>He can hear himself moan and scream out his pleasure – only it's not his pleasure, it's a thing that's being <em>taken </em>from him – but his body doesn't give a crap about that.</p><p> </p><p>His cock is harder than ever, jutting out from his body – hard, red, and angry – and still leaking and Cas' fingers piston in and out of his ass. His other hand is on Dean's ass, holding him still.</p><p> </p><p>His muscles lock up.</p><p> </p><p>Dean comes hard, his cock untouched and his tears spill again. He's exhausted, confused, pissed, and scared.</p><p> </p><p>Cas removes his fingers and Dean sobs with relief. It's so strong that for a moment it even overshadows the very reason for <em>why </em>he's relieved.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, it's done and he can rest, go home, hide, sleep. Dean just wants to go home and sleep and wake up in his and Cas' – <em>his Cas'</em> – bed. He can hear Cas... the doctor talking.<br/>
<br/>
“ – and this is good, Dean. You're very responsive to this treatment. I'll give you some time to rest and then we'll repeat the process.”</p><p> </p><p>Dean jumps as the doctor closes the door.</p><p> </p><p>He lays there, mind numb, and cries.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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